


Spring Fever (Love is in the Air)

by passenger



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Football Player Louis, Friends to Lovers, Just Zouis and weed for like a second, M/M, Meet-Cute, Recreational Drug Use, i'm terrible at tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 10:13:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3892513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/passenger/pseuds/passenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Spring term at Man U. Harry Styles is a law major. Louis Tomlinson is the star footie player. They're dorm neighbors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spring Fever (Love is in the Air)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LiveLaughLoveLarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveLaughLoveLarry/gifts).



> This is the first chapter, hope you like it! xx

It took nearly an hour for Louis to unlatch his wonderfully rotten twin sisters from his torso, “Listen, you leeches,” he fought through giggles, “‘m coming back home in a few more weeks.”

 

“But, Lou,” Daisy pleaded with a sickeningly sweet puppy dog face, “you’d promise to make cupcakes with us,” to which Phoebe chimed in with a ‘Yeah, Lou, you promised’.

“How about I promise to _not_ help you two nutters burn down the kitchen,” he chuckled while ruffling their hair - much to their annoyance. Louis looked up to see his mother smiling easily, having gone through this before, “Thanks for breakfast, mum. I’ll call you soon as I get there,” he kissed her cheek and grabbed his duffel, rushing out the door - so the twins don’t start tugging at his sleeves again.

“I’m sure you will,” he heard his mother call out jokingly as he carelessly tossed his things into the boot of his mum’s old hatchback. She’d given it to him when he’d left for Uni about a year and some odd months ago as was one of his graduation gifts. He hadn't really been expecting much seeing as his family was just well off enough to support the crowd with what they needed. If it weren't for the scholarships he’d received for footie he probably wouldn't be going to Manchester. He just never really had that kind of money.

Anyway, here he is. In his second year majoring in drama at the University of Manchester, on a scholarship to play for their footie team, which, he is _definitely_ not complaining about. He’d taken a year off from school when he was 18 to figure his payments out. During then he trained with his grandfather’s friend who worked for the Doncaster Rovers. It was as close to a dream as Louis could get. He didn't mind being a few months to a year older than most of his University friends, since he started a year late. Driving back from his winter holiday, he’s realized just how much he’s missed his friends, really. Zayn, who he’s roomed with for a year now, is an Art major. Quite the talent in that one too, if it weren't for all his projects and ideas the walls of their dorm would be bland - or worse, covered in food stains. There was Liam - who is way too invested in Zayn - working towards a nursing degree. He has a constant puppy dog face that annoys Louis’ bones - except, not really, because Louis loves Liam, he does. Of course, there was also Niall, he’d transferred from Ireland in the Fall, the kid never puts his guitar down. Together, the four of them, made quite the quad. The entire floor of their building was close, actually. Just as much as he has missed his best lads, he’s missed El, Pez, and Sophia. Although, most of all, he’s missed the field.

After an hour and a half of driving, Louis made it to his makeshift home. There’s people scattered in the courtyards and loitering in the lot, soaking in their last moments of freedom before the Spring term starts tomorrow. The sun was out and it was a breezy day, perfect for practice. With that in mind, Louis skipped out on stopping by the dorms and grabbed his travel gear from the backseat, heading straight to the lockers.

It is empty, of course. The smell of sweaty boy and grass has died down significantly over the break, he notes. Soon enough, Louis is changed into a pair of joggers, his trusty boots, and a practice kit that desperately needs a washing. Grabbing an aired football, he jogs out to the empty field.

There was just _something_ about football. Louis just had a thing for it. Unlike, theater. Of course, he loves theater, it’s, well, it’s everything he wants to do in life. But _football_ \- it was just easy. He didn't have to work so hard. Every move, every kick, every counter - it was _easy_. It was freeing, almost. He can lose himself in a game but at the same time be as focused as ever. Drama was something he had to work at, but it was the achievement motivation and his passion that kept him going. Football - it was just Louis’ essence.

He’d lost track of time on the field. But judging by the absence of the sun in the sky and the moon’s shining granting him light, Louis guesses it’s rather late. He lets his breaths ease and his heart calm, a good ache settling in his muscles and chest. He hits the showers quickly before dressing in a new pair of joggers and an old Stone Roses tee. Gathering up all his things, Louis reluctantly heads out of the lockers being sure to lock up with his Captain’s key.

“ _Finally_ ,” Louis hears Zayn’s familiar squeal as he waddles into the dorm, legs seeking a well earned rest, “been waiting all day! Saw your bin of a car out in the park when I got home, came ‘round just to find you’re no where on the floor,” Zayn scolds lovingly before squeezing Louis into hug.

He grimaced, at the pain in his muscles, but hugged back, “Sorry, _mum_ ,” Louis chided - which only reminded him, he should really call his mum soon.

“Sod off,” Zayn rolled his eyes, pushing Louis away slightly. _Leave it to Zayn to always sound more British than the lot of them_ , he thought.

“If you don’t mind,” Louis groaned, dragging his duffel and practice equipment, “I’d like to sleep and _try_ wake up on time tomorrow.“

The sun is barely up when his alarm wakes him. _Note to self: Stop scheduling early morning classes_ , Louis sighed, sliding his finger across his phone quickly to disable the blaring noise. It’s surprising, really, how easily it is to slip into his routine even after a month without a set one. He stretches out, lazily and cat-like, before grooming himself for the day. Instead of lying to himself and his classmates by dressing up for the new term, Louis slips on the cleanest pair of joggers and a Rover’s hoodie he didn’t even know he had. Topping it off with a beanie and vans and three minutes to get to the drama building, he runs out the door of he and Zayn’s dorm.

“Have a good day, White Rabbit,” Louis hears Perrie laugh as he runs past her room.

“I’m always late,” he chuckles loudly. It’s a good thing their building is in the center courtyard, all the buildings close by.

So, he’s late getting to the drama building. Except, he’s not quite sure why he’s so surprised. He _is_ Louis Tomlinson. It isn’t like Caroline will mind anyway - his professor for Scene Design and Fundamentals. After two hours of Scene Design, Louis is sure he hates William Shakespeare - except, not really. He has an hour to kill before Fundamentals, though, so he decides to pop in his headphones and rehearse for his audition. Whilst everyone clears out to grab breakfast, Louis wanders the near empty building, singing along to the song Savan, his old vocal coach, picked out for him.

There is a glass case full of drama awards won by the University and it’s student’s recognition. Louis trails down the hall, searching for his name, knowing it’s in there once or twice. He smiles proudly, finding his name on a plaque just as his big finish for the song. Closing his eyes and rounding the corner, Louis hits the last note. It’s cut short as he falls back, colliding with a tall figure.

“Oops! Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Louis hears as he yanks his headphones out. He looks at the boy standing before him with two feet planted safely - two tan boot covered feet - whilst he’s flat on his arse. Louis furrows his eyebrows, grunting as he helps himself up despite the worried boy holding a helping hand out, “Hi, I’m-”

“Hi,” Louis says a bit disbelievingly,”You _charge_ into me and then say ‘ _Hi_ ’?”

“It was an accident, I’m sorry,” the boy blushes, looking down at his pigeon-toed feet.

“‘s fine,” Louis grumbles. He isn’t mad at the boy; It was an accident. He just really had an ache in his arse cheek now and he didn’t eat breakfast.

“I’m lost,” the boy said, blushing even more than before. Louis couldn’t help but chuckle over it - not that he was lost, but that he was embarrassed for being lost. It was a rather large school, Louis even gets lost sometimes.

“I’m Louis,” he smiled, trying to light the mood. It did too, because the other boy laughed like Louis told the joke of the season.

“Harry,” he had managed through small fits of giggles, “but really, I’m so late for my lecture. I’m new too, I can’t believe I’m late on the first day,” the boy - Harry - groaned, grabbing at his loosened curls.

“Hey, hey,” Louis patted his shoulder, “don’t stress so much, you’ll lose all those curls and we can’t have that. Where do you need to be?”

“I have Criminology,” Harry shrugged - _a law student who can’t figure his ways around a Uni_ \- and Louis chuckled to himself, pointing off on the boy’s map where to go. At that, Louis’ hour break was up, so he sent the lanky boy on his way and trudged off to finish his final two classes of the day.

“Louis, need you to pose for me sometime tomorrow, I have another project,” Zayn insisted as soon as Louis’ got his toe in the dorm room.

“I have things to do also, you know,” he sighed, “you should ask Liam, ‘m sure he’d be _delighted_ to pose nude for you.”

“‘s not even a nude pose,” Zayn giggled, in the den sorting through their junk drawer for an extra charcoal it seemed, as Louis lent against their den’s wall, “just need your shoulder.”

“Shoulder,” Louis scoffed, “you artsy type are so weird.”

“Your clavicle, to be specific,” he added distantly as he made his way to his easel, “Anyway, did you hear that Josh’s room is taken? We have a new neighbor.”

“Hope they’re not an angry troll that likes to keep the hall quiet,” Louis laughed, plopping on their small swivel chair besides Zayn’s ‘art station’, “Especially being beside the toilets and what with the activities you and Liam partake to there at night.”

Zayn only rolled his eyes, but there’s no denial, so Louis takes that as a, ‘ _Yes, we fuck. Everyone knows, shut up_ ’. They should probably meet their new hall mate soon. Everyone on the floor is so close; It wouldn’t be fair. Eleanor and Sophia share their room, then it’s Niall and Liam (who is desperately trying to swap Niall for Zayn), Perrie, Zayn and himself, and finally, Josh’s old dorm next to their floor’s co-ed showers and loos. The single rooms are closer in style to a studio apartment where as room’s for two have two bedrooms with a small den and kitchen. Usually, the crew will hang in Perrie’s room. Zayn hides the weed and Eleanor hides the booze. It’s quite a set up. Josh’s room was the hang out until he transferred last Spring. It’s been an empty room since. Now, there’s a newcomer in there.

At around the time the sun starts setting, Louis decides to give their new hall mate a welcome. Of course, earlier, Louis and Zayn had made a dent in the weed stash. So, this new found motivation to meet the mystery person in the room besides his could be due to his high.

He knocks three times and manages a relaxed smile as the door opens, “Hi, ‘m Lo-”

“Louis,” a frantic and hushed shriek cuts him off as he’s pulled into the dorm, “Louis, we met earlier.”

And he did meet this kid earlier, “Law major,” he nods with a chuckle, looking up at Harry.

“Harry,” he smiles, _dimples_ , “I need your help.”

He should be worried that he let himself be pulled into a stranger’s room who slammed the door and locked it immediately, but it’s Harry and he’s high, so, “Yeah, what d’you need?”

“I can’t live without her, okay, so,” Harry is starting to pull at his curls again and Louis rolls his eyes, slapping his hand down lightly, “right - don’t pull my hair out - but I don’t have much time. I love her and I love this school and I can’t lose both of them already! I just got here,” Harry rambles on.

“Chill, curly,” Louis stifles his laughter, “Also, you’re talking too fast.”

“Are you high right now?”

“No.” _Yes_.

“Whatever,” Harry walked over to where his small love seat was and reached for something in the junction between it and the wall, “I guess, I need you to help me hide Dusty.”

It’s a cat. Harry is asking Louis to help him hide his fucking cat. He can’t help but laugh a bit too loudly, “No pets, like at all, everyone knows that!”

“No drugs, like at all, everyone knows that,” Harry frowns, holding Dusty closer.

“Touche,” Louis calms down, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll help, but I don’t know how long she’ll last,” Louis took the cat into his arms and she smelled like strawberries, “I mean, we don’t get a lot of room check ups. It’ll just be hard though, you know?”

“I know,” Harry furrowed his eyebrows, worrying his bottom lip and watching the cat sit gingerly in Louis’ arms, “I just love her and didn’t want to be homesick, but, I’ll probably call my mum in about a week to take her.”

Louis nodded, “So, you’ve got someone coming tonight?”

“Yeah, in about an hour, thank you so much, Louis,” Harry pat Dusty’s head a last time.

“Swing by and get her when you’d like, I suppose,” Louis smirked, walking towards the door, “but it has to be before tomorrow morning. I am _not_ keeping your cat forever.”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” Harry laughed, relief flooding his body as he watched Louis retreat awkwardly to his room with a cat. He needs to stop getting high and he needs to stop helping to cute boys.

Luckily, Zayn isn’t in the room when Louis returns, arms full of cat. He sneaks to his room and sets the lump of fur onto the bed where it meows softly, “You are cute, I’ll give you that,” he says to her. About two hours later while Louis’ tangled in what has to be the longest shoelace he’s ever seen Dusty tugging at its ends, Zayn opens his door.

“Erm, I-”

“You know, I’m actually glad it’s a cat, really I am,” Zayn cuts off his explanation - which, _rude_ -, “I was worried it’d be something unjustifiable. Anyway, carry on, I suppose. Just, don’t giggle so loud, ‘m trying to sleep.”

Once the door is closed, he’s back to playing with Dusty. He’s not sure how he does it, but he ends up even more tangled in the shoelace from Hell. As any romantic comedy, this was the moment Harry walked into Louis’ room. He groaned, embarrassment filling his cheeks.

“Shoelaces are Dusty’s weakness,” Harry giggles, _fucking giggles_ , “and yours too, I see.”

 

“Ha ha,” Louis glares, “I just saved your arse and your kitty too and this is the thanks I get.”

“Thank you,” Harry smiles genuinely and Louis rolls his eyes.

“Just help me out of this mess, will ya?”

He’s free after about three minutes of banter with Harry. When he’s untangled completely and safe from the string of terror, they end up in the tiny kitchen for tea.

“So, Harry-” Louis raises his eyebrows, sipping from his tea.

“Styles,” Harry gulps his tea - gulps, thus, failing to savor the deep taste.

“Styles,” he nods, “Why’d you transfer here to good ole Manchester?”

“Well, I was at a local university in Holmes-Chapel, but, I just felt like I was missing out. I wanted to experience the whole - Uni life - you know?” Louis hummed in agreement, “I was supposed to stay home for a year, ‘m still young and all.”

_That’s new_ , “Young and all,” Louis chuckled curiously, “and by that you mean?”

“I actually finished school early, ‘m only seventeen. It’s only a year earlier but I mean, culture shock and all.”

Louis choked a bit on his tea, covering it as just needing to clear his throat. _Seventeen_ , Louis’ _twenty_ and a second year. He’s practically _preying_ on Harry. It’s wrong. So wrong in fact, that Louis should make him leave, _now_ , “You’re quite tall for only seventeen.”

“You’re quite tiny for only twenty, Tomlinson,” Harry giggles.

“How’d you know I’m twenty,” he says, but what he meant was, ‘ _Harry, you need to leave. Come back when you’re nineteen at the least_ ’.

“I mean, I researched the school before coming here and you’re their star player.”

“‘course,” Louis bites back a smile,” well, ‘s getting late. I should really head off to bed.”

“‘m sorry, I don’t mean to be creepy,” Harry blushes and Louis _really_ needs him to leave before he does something stupid like learn that he loves his mum or cooks or something else that’s terribly adorable and charming.

“You’re not creepy,” Louis pours out their tea into the sink and places the cups in the dirty frying pan soaking in the sink.

“Hey, that pan,” Harry beams, “that’s from Maurice’s new kitchen line, right?”

“I think so,” Louis furrows his eyebrows, looking up at a bubbly Harry, “my mum bought them for me, but I don’t cook, I mean except frying eggs.” _Weird_ , this kid is.

“Oh, I love cooking,” _fuck_ , “my mum and I would have cooking competitions on Sundays. She won, of course, but probably because my stepfather was the judge. God, I miss her,” _double fuck_.

Louis fakes a yawn to hide his dopey smile and to keep himself from taking Harry’s life story from him right there even though something tells him that Harry would give it up to Louis happily.

“That’s right, bedtime,” Harry nods, making his way to the door, “well, I’m off. Thank you again for saving my Dusty,” he picks up the sleeping cat and steps into the hall after looking both ways. This kid will be the death of him.

“Anytime,” Louis grins, “I mean, not anytime, I really suggest you don’t keep a cat around these halls.”

They share a laugh before sitting in a silence. Both waiting for the other to say something - _anything_.

“I’m right next door if you ever want to have a play date - with Dusty, of course. Or some tea, with me,” Harry licks his lip, probably not meaning it to be as intriguing as it is.

“Yeah,” Louis gulps quietly.

With that Harry uses Dusty’s grey paw to give a mini wave, pouting his lip out cutely. Louis nearly slams the door shut he’s so flustered, but he simply smiles. It takes all his energy to not scream into his pillow that night. Harry Styles is seventeen and _killing_ Louis.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is greatly appreciated! It helps motivate me to continue the story and I have plans for this one :) xx


End file.
